The small boy sighed as he ran his long pale fingers through his chestnut brown hair.
He couldn't help it, he was terrified. Butterflies flew around in his stomach, his legs shook and his eyes darted around anxiously as he walked along the deserted hallway his soft footsteps echoing off the tiled floor.
"Come on Kurt just a few more steps and then we're out of this hell hole" a quiet voice in his head said reassuringly. Kurt took another shaky step. "Keep going you're almost ther..."
Suddenly his inner voice was cut off by a loud metallic bang. The boy jumped violently his bag slipping off his shoulder and landing on the floor with a small soft thud. He bent down slowly to pick it up not noticing a pair of large dirty trainers in front of him.
"Hey fag drop something?" The owner of the trainers jeered in a gruff voice.
The small boy grabbed his bag and ran, not stopping until he reached the phone box at the end of the road.
Panting heavily he punched in a number, praying the owner would picked up. It was answered on the second ring.
"Blaine, I need you..."
AN: Wow no idea where this came from. I hope you enjoyed.
I know it's a little rubbish but that's because I haven't written anything in about 3 years. :)
Soo yeah, thanks for reading.
-gives cookie. Lessthan3 :)